She decided to help him out. “Where are we?” It looked like a hotel room. Jeffery Dahmer’s hotel room. Gothic furniture and gargoyles and creepy paintings with moving eyes. Dark, velvet drapes shrouded the windows and the canopy bed looked like a crypt. The kind of place you’d pose the body of your victim for a few candid shots before you ate his skin. “This is my lair.” “Oh geez.”
